The border between Iraq and Kuwait stood as an ominous warning to visitors entering from Kuwait. More than just a geographic tool separating two countries, this literal line in the sand separated the wealthy from the poor, the complacent from the terror ridden. On one side of the border, people who had barely caught their breath from the Iran and Gulf Wars were again struggling to care for families during a military operation and subsequent messy reconstruction. The prolonged agony of Saddam Hussein's reign had eroded the hopes of many of its people; they were in a survival mode, propping mattresses against windows to avoid incoming fire. In Kuwait, the other side of the line, it was life as usual. Streets of glittery luxury cars and window shopping in designer stores typified the lives of career-less Kuwaitis who relied on imported workers to provide services in their oil-supported welfare state. Wholly different existences were dependent on which side of the line a family lived.
Pulling up to the razor wire border, the sign said simply "Iraq" written in English and Arabic. The convoy of six black Chevy Surburbans carried employees of Kellogg Brown & Root (KBR,) a division Halliburton, the main contractor in the reconstruction of Iraq. Each vehicle was equipped with a military drive and two "shooters", one riding shotgun in the front, the other in the back window. Termite's veins surged with nervous excitement. He was finally here, even if it was the most unusual pest control appointment he had ever had.
Getting to that point at that border seemed at times impossible. Termite felt compelled to be there, drawn to Iraq. The more he prayed for guidance the more the nagging, relentless feeling came; he knew he was supposed to go. Explaining to his wife and best friend of twenty-four years that he had an overwhelming call from God to leave his six-figure car sales income and kill bugs in Iraq was a tougher sell than he had imagined. Relentlessly he cajoled, persuaded, begged, but Sharla was a hard sell. She told her husband, "I didn't get that call." She had been there during the boxing highs, but she had remained supportive during years of failed business ventures where vehicles were repossessed and homes were lost. No wife wanted to return to those days.
His first attempt to depart for the airport with KBR had to be cancelled due to Sharla's state of emotions. Termite could not get Sharla to stop crying long enough to say goodbye; she could not let him go. Day one of the inconsolable weeping was draining - by day three; everyone in the family was worn out. Termite was wholly committed to supporting America's troops in Iraq. Although he hadn't been in exterminating in years, he knew the business well from working bureaucratic obstacles just to get his license rushed through Austin. Sharla knew that Termite's decision was void of any logic, but she knew his level of determination. Resigned to Termite's insistence that he make a difference in Iraq, she sighed, "Termite, you can't change a country." Termite responded, "I know, but I can try. I can do my part."
